POV: Aaravi

The door slammed.

And with it, so did every hope I’d kept alive.

I sat there, still wrapped in the throw he’d tossed over me, my heartbeat loud and slow — like thunder just before rain.

He hated me. Not just rejected me — hated me for trying.

I stood, legs trembling, and got dressed.

Called the only person who ever understood my kind of madness.

"Meet me at NOX," I said to Rhea. "I need to breathe."

She didn’t ask questions. She never did.

Within an hour, I was at the loudest, darkest, wildest club in the city. The bass felt like my heartbeat — erratic, too loud, and everywhere.

Two shots. Then three. Then a glowing blue cocktail I couldn’t name. I wasn’t trying to forget Ashwin. I was trying to forget that he made me feel too much.

Rhea danced beside me, her hands in the air, her laughter wild and beautiful.

“Forget him, baby ” she screamed over the music. “You’re fire, Aara . Burn something else.”

But I didn’t want to burn something else.

I wanted to burn him.

I pulled out my phone, blurry-eyed, and dialed his number.

He answered on the third ring.

“Ashhwinnnn,” I slurred.

“Aaravi?” His voice set my body on fire. “Where are you?”

“I’m in hell, darling. And you’re the devil who brought me here.” I giggled.

“You’re drunk.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” I giggled. “Why do you hate me so much? I’m so soft and pretty and insane about you. Isn’t that every man’s dream?” I asked pouting." Then why don't you love me?”

“Who are you with?”

“Oh, just some random guy I met. He said I look like a goddess. You never say that. Maybe I’ll let him worship me instead.”

Click.

The call dropped.

---

I was still laughing when someone tapped my shoulder.

A guy — tall, flirty, too interested.

“You okay?” he asked, sliding a hand to my waist.

I was about to swat it away when a blur came flying past us.

Crack.

Ashwin’s fist met the guy’s jaw.

Chaos continued there but all I could see was him. Everything else blurred in background.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled.

I yanked away. “No! You don’t get to play hero after crushing me like roadkill.”

“You’re leaving. Now.” I whisper yelled.

“I’m not your responsibility!” I pulled my hands.

He didn’t reply.

He just bent, picked me up in his arms— the way he once carried my hopes — and stormed out of the club.

---

The next thing I remember was the sound of doors locking and lights dimming.

My penthouse. Home.

He laid me down on my bed gently, like I was breakable.

I mumbled something. He didn’t answer.

He tucked the blanket around me, then ran a hand over his face and sighed like he was the one falling apart. Aint I?

Then darkness swallowed me.

---

I woke up with Sunlight. A headache. The taste of shame in my mouth.

I blinked, groaning. I looked here and there. Something smelled nice.

And there he was.

In my kitchen.

In a black tee and grey joggers. Cooking eggs. Pouring juice.

He walked over, calm as ever, and handed me a glass of water and a tablet.

“Take it. Hangover killer.”

I sat up slowly. My head throbbed.

“You stayed?” I croaked.

“You passed out.” he put his hand in his pant pockets.

“You cooked for me?”

“I owed you something.”

“For punching a guy?”

“For making you think you could ever matter to me that way.”

The silence shattered something inside me.

He didn’t look at me. Just kept fixing the cutlery.

“I love someone else,” he said.

The room spun again.

He continued, quietly. “I never told you because I feared you’d tell my parents. And they’d disapprove of my choices. But that was cowardly. You deserved to know.”

I couldn’t breathe.

“Why now?” I whispered.

“Because last night, you looked like a girl who was begging to be broken. And I can’t be the one to do that anymore.”

I bit my lip until it bled.

He placed the breakfast on the table. Walked to the door.

Paused.

“I didn’t stay to confuse you, Aaravi. I stayed because even if I don’t love you… I still don’t want to see you destroy yourself.” he looked at me. His eyes told me some other story.

Then he left.

And I broke.

This time, quietly.